SUP WIT IT, INTERNET? My tentacled body is wracked with pain and my ears are ringing , but I don’t give a damnnnn. Why, you ask? Because the Licentious Librarians of the Moist Graffiti were privy to some bitchin’ live shows last weekend in Styrofoam City. Be relieved: Imma keep the concert porn a li’l truncated…
Danny loves Molly, and girls sitting on his cock. I am neither. Oh. Moist Graffiti Rating: 59.121 . Over produced LA kids holding guitars – Indie pop? My arse. Moist Graffiti Rating: 51.453 . Brooklyn chillwave-ers. Nothing to frighten the kids… Unlike Drunkle Chad. Moist Graffiti Rating: 65.934 . The Eighties never died for baggy…
I said Goddddddddd Daaaaaamn Internets! The Sultry Sultan is back to drop another dogmatic and dastardly discourse for the damned, the disconcerted, and the demented. It’s becoming exceedingly difficult to decussate the cavernous layers of new music these days. Which albums deserve your time, bandwidth, and coin? Do not put undue strain on yourself; let…
SWEET G-SUS, INTERNET. My jarring hangover and gratuitous grin indicate that it was a damn fine week of shows for the Wizened Wizards of the Moist Graffiti. Although Schnitzel B. and I commenced the fall concert season 2.5 weeks ago with the sacrilicious Book of Mormon, it was akin to sipping a delicate apertif before running…
As the river flows surely to the sea, some things are meant to be. The wolf will eat the lamb (screw you Isaiah 11:6!!), 2+2 will continue to equal 4, Daniel Sturridge will refuse to pass the ball and concert season will restart in the fall. Praise be to jeebus! Nothing gets the Moist Graffiti…
WHAT UP INTERNET. Dr. Socktopus has returned to excrete another intensely informative review into the Lightless Depths of the Moist Graffiti. Now. You know that I know that you know who the fuck the Arctic Monkeys are, so I won’t take too long to introduce them. In the year of our Lord 2006, Alex Turner…
Greetings internets! It is I, the Sultry Sultan, here to soften the strain of seeking out strikingly stunning song for the sordid, the sad, and the squalid. The album I have chosen to use for my ignoble debut is Hesitation Marks of the band, Trent Reznor and the Soggy Bottom Boys…or as the proletariat has…
